Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy, or any of the characters associated with it.
A/N: I wrote this because I was bored out of my mind, and because my lovely best friend Elisabeth was pressuring me to write a Grey's Anatomy fanfic for her. Anyways, I realized that Zola was tiny when Lexie died, so she might not remember her aunt that much, which broke my little fangirl heart. Review and enjoy!
Every memory of walking out the front door
I found the photo of the friend I was looking for
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.
Your Aunt Lexie dies when you are just a few years old. Of course, you're so small that you don't know what's happening. All that you can distinguish from the blurred memories that you have is that your mother was crying. You don't know why your mother is crying, or why your father has his head cradled in his hands. Your Aunt Cristina is wrapped up in your Uncle Owen's arms, and your little toddler mind is confused, because aren't they usually arguing? Adults make no sense. You don't understand what has happened, since you are too tiny. Soon, the memories fade away, until all you can remember years later is that it was dark, and your mother was crying. The reason why is forgotten, buried deep inside your mind.
"Where's Aunt Lexie?"
"She went away, Zo-zo. Now, go play."
You're twelve years old, rummaging through cupboards and pulling out drawers when you find an old photograph. Three people stare out at you. There's your mum, looking so young and so happy, an emotion she rarely feels outside of the hospital now, her eyes shining and the corners of her mouth pulling upwards as she looks at the other two people. Beside her is your dad, Derek Shepherd, who died when you were little. You feel tears pricking at your eyes as you look at the father who you only have a few memories with. Your brother can barely remember him, and your sister wasn't even born when he died. You tear your eyes away from your dad, and look to the other side of your mother. You can't recognize the woman pictured, but for some strange reason you feel some sort of pull towards her. Her hair is falling down her shoulders in dark waves. Her pale face is framed by bangs, and her eyes are beautiful. They are dark and seem like they are dancing, even though the woman herself is captured in a still photo.
Flipping the photo over, your eyes flit to the words scrawled on the back in unfamiliar handwriting.
Mer, Derek and me in 2012
- Lexie Grey
So that's who the woman in the photo is. No wonder she seems so familiar to you. Then you frown, your fingers tracing Lexie's face, captured in mid-laugh.
Aunt Lexie, kissing your cheek. Aunt Lexie, throwing you up in the air and catching you. Aunt Lexie, tickling your toes. Aunt Lexie playing dolls with you. Aunt Lexie went away, Zo-zo.
For a moment, you smile, but then you remember. Aunt Lexie went away. A cold feeling runs through your body, and you drop the photograph.
Your brother runs in a few minutes later. He's been looking for you. He stops at the weird expression on your face. He opens his mouth and tilts his head, unsure of why his elder sister is staring at a drawer like that. Snapping back to reality, you smile at him. You shove the photograph back into the back of the drawer and slam it shut.
You never open that drawer again.
This wasn't the first time you found memories of Lexie. When you were smaller, you found your mother's diary, the one that she claimed did not exist.
It was old, and smelt of leather. For some strange, but comforting reason, it reminded you of your father.
It's been over 5 years, and I still can't get over Lexie. My sister was a miracle, a masterpiece of a woman, of a girl, but she's gone. I've learned a long time ago that no matter how hard we try, we can't rewrite history. I can close my eyes, I can lie in bed all I want, but it changes nothing. George is always dead, Izzie's always gone, Cristina's always halfway across the world. Callie's gone, and Derek's dead. The plane crash always happened, and we lost Lexie and Mark.
It's funny. When she first came, I hated her. She was the reminder that my father had left me, the reminder that he had a new family, a new life, without me. But it wasn't her fault that Thatcher had left. I don't think I realized that until a little while later, and I treated Lexie harshly because of that fact. It wasn't fair for me to shut her out, because she didn't mean for it to happen. She was my sister, and slowly, I realized that.
I remember the night that she came up to me and told me five things about her so that I would hate her less. I think that's when I came to my senses. I was being so rude to my poor little sister, who thought I hated her. Like seriously! I was so bad, that she thought I hated her. But those five facts were hilarious, looking back.
Meredith was standing at the nurses station finishing up some charts before she headed home for the night, when Lexie walked over to her.
"I'm not stalking you. I just… I hate apples." Lexie stated matter of factly as Meredith looked over to her, slightly confused of what she was doing. "Hate them. Think they shouldn't be allowed to be a fruit. That's one. And… and two, I can draw really, really well on an etch a sketch. Like, really well, like I would be a professional if, you know, that profession existed. I play the trombone… badly. Uh, I like Math. And I noticed that you do this thing with your hands when you're trying to make a point, like… like… like this. And I know that's about you, but I… I do it, too. So it's also about me. And that's five. Five things that I'm hoping will make it a little bit harder for you to hate me."
Meredith looked over to her as the brunette walked away. It was almost like she felt guilty that Lexie thought she hated her. In a way, she did. It wasn't Lexie's fault that their father started a new family and neglected to contact her. She shouldn't blame her, or her younger sister, Molly, was it? Anyways, it wasn't right, and she didn't really know why she did it.
After a few rough patches, it was very easy to get close. I remember the times where we actually had fun, where Lexie and me actually got to know each other. It was a work in progress, and I think it was harder than it should have been and it took longer than it should have been, but we made it.
Now, looking back, I guess that I should have pushed even harder, got to know her even better, since we had so little time. But the time we had was precious, and I wouldn't change it for the world.
Goodbye, my little sister. Goodbye, little Grey. I hope you are having fun with Mark, even though I might have disapproved when you first got together. After all, dear sister, your heart was in your vagina, right?
Meredith and Derek were at lunch together and talking, just like most days. "So, are you going to tell me about the adventures of Death and Die?" Derek asked.
"Nope, but I did talk to Lexie for you." Meredith stated. "And now, I need you to do something for me."
"What's that?"
"I need you to tell Mark to keep his little Sloan out of little Grey."
"Was he hitting on you?" Derek replied angrily, probably more ready to kill his best friend more than anything.
"No, not my little Grey, Lexie's little Grey. I don't know what's going on with her, but the last thing she needs is Sloan going all man-whore on her. So, you need to tell him to step away from little Grey." Meredith didn't really trust Mark, especially with her sister. Her first instinct now was to protect her.
"I'll see what I can do."
"Little Grey, Derek… little Grey." Meredith called after him as he stood to leave, ignoring the curious glances everyone gave her.
Mark really did prove himself, though. After all, you two were meant to be. Wherever you two are now, I hope you're happy.
Meredith Grey
There were tearstains on the journal pages.
You didn't really understand. The only things that you were able to decipher were that Aunt Lexie was with Uncle Mark, and they were both gone, and your mother was crying.
It was the first time where you saw your mother express emotion for Aunt Lexie that you could remember, and you were shocked.
She was crying over your Aunt Lexie, who left.
You don't think about Lexie for the next few years. Then suddenly you're seventeen years old and you're staring at your family, who's gathered around your living room for a party.
Aunt Amelia and Aunt April are chatting by the fireplace. Your Aunt's hair is darker in the shadows, and the firelight is reflecting off her eyes, making them glow. Suddenly, you're reminded of a different girl, and Lexie's name runs through your brain.
You don't really remember her, your aunt, just brief flashes of a bright smile that lit up the room and a pale, beautiful face framed by bangs. It makes your skin itch, since you don't really remember her, don't remember the girl that your mum and the rest of your aunts and uncles knew. You can't remember her like they do, can't remember any of her quirks and weird habits. All you can remember is a face and a kind voice, but the memories of your aunt are gone.
"Who's Lexie Grey?" You blurt out suddenly. Sofia nudges you in the ribs, but it's too late. The damage has already been done.
Immediately, all conversation stops in the room. Aunt Maggie and Amelia look confused, but your mother's face has gone and her breath comes out raggedly as she leans on your Uncle Alex for support. He too, looks like he has seen a ghost. The only movement in the room comes from the fire, flickering non-stop like it's about to go out.
Finally, your Uncle Jackson speaks up. "Lexie," he breathes, his eyes wide and his normally steady fingers shaking. Maggie and Amelia turn to him with raised eyebrows. "You've met her, Amelia."
"Oh," Aunt Amelia tilts her head, confused. "Oh!" She says suddenly, her skin pale and her eyes full of tears. "Lexie."
Maggie is still confused. "Who's Lexie?" She asks, turning to look at you."
"Lexie was Mer's sister," Jackson tells her, his face grim.
Maggie's eyebrows furrow. "We have another sister?" Her eyes dart towards your mother. The realization kicks in only a moment later. "Oh." She breaths. "We had another sister. What happened to her?"
Your Uncle Jackson opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him, your arms crossing over your chest. "She left us." You mutter bitterly.
Aunt April bites her lip, shaking her head softly. "No, she didn't. She would never."
"Then why has she never come back to visit, never seen Bailey or El? She left" You counter, your eyes brimming with angry tears.
Your mother, who has been silent in the corner for so long, finally speaks up. "No. She died." Her voice is hoarse, and her eyes are dark with tears. "In the plane crash where Arizona lost her leg."
You flinch.
The plane crash is basically a taboo subject in your household. Nobody likes being reminded of the losses they had suffered in the deadly accident. Sometimes, your mum flinches when she looks at the hospital name, and her eyes hold pain, a type of pain that nobody other than Cristina and Arizona will, or even can understand. Aunt Arizona holds her prosthetic leg sometimes, and she rubs an imaginary limb that is pulsing with pain. When your Aunt Cristina comes to Seattle, you sometimes don't feel like she's always with you. Seattle is full of shadows and missed opportunities for her, so that's why she always insists on you visiting her.
"She was crushed by the plane, and died." Your mother's voice goes up in pitch, and her tone is shrill. She stumbles, but Alex catches her, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Amelia's eyes are blue and teary, while Maggie's face is blank, her mind still trying to wrap around the fact that she has a sister, a dead sister that she never knew.
Your sister walks in, immediately noticing the tense atmosphere of the room.
"Who's Lexie?" She asks, curious.
Before anyone can even open their mouth, you're moving. Scooping up your little sister, who's grown so much but is still light as a feather, you move to the couch. She stares up at you from your lap, her dark eyes innocent. In that moment, you know. You can't tell her. Her head's still full of childlike innocence, and you can't be the one to take that sparkle away from her eyes.
You take a deep breath.
"She went away, El." You say, echoing your mother's words from so long ago. "She went away."